Face And Ghost
by NightsDawne
Summary: A Wellsian style representation of Vincent and Lucretia from Vincent's pov. R&R petitioned hopefully.
1. The Nightmare Begins

Face And Ghost 

Face and Ghost  
by NightsDawne 

This is one of my earlier fanfics, but unsure of its value, I only got through the first part of the story. A little R&R will go a long way in letting me know if I should pick it up again. The Wellsian style works better if you read it while listening to Vincent's Theme. The characters belong to Squaresoft.

Chapter 1: The Nightmare Begins

* * *

I do not know why I bother with this. It seems futile to put my nightmare to paper, to record it for others to share, but Cid insists that by doing this I may regain some of my memory of more than simply facts, that I may again learn to feel, and by feeling claim once more the humanity which was stolen from me. That I am even listening to Cid Highwind's advice may be a sign of impending insanity, but who am I to judge anymore what is insane and what is simply the reality most choose to live in. However, I digress from the point of this effort.

I was born Vincent Valentine over half a century ago. My father, Damian Valentine, was a gunsmith in the town of Kalm. Kalm, a tiny village I preferred to call Koma in my own thoughts, but again I stray from the point. It was a normal enough childhood, I suppose, but since I have never fully experienced any other childhoods, who am I to claim what is normal? I had enough to eat, was decently clothed, sufficiently educated for a small town, and do not recall my parents ever fighting. I was not a very social child and spent much of my free time drawing, reading, and learning to use with proficiency the works of my father's art.

By the time I was 16 I had become restless with the never-changing rustic peace of my birthplace, and, in a fit of adolescent independence, left home to find my path in the big city. Midgar was not a great distance, and towards that modern metropolis I set my feet in hopes of adventure and easy money. Youthful naitivité is a dangerous thing, and were it not for my gunslinging skills I might not have survived that first night, for it seemed nobody greets small town boys at the gate and gives them enough money to rent a place to live. My first year was spent merely trying to survive on the streets, barely earning enough money to provide for my stomach much less get a warm bed for the night. Adventure, I discovered, was much more expensive than I had thought, and money was harder than titanium point bullets.

By the middle of my second year in Midgar, I had lost my small town accent, hardened my muscles, and honed my shooting skills to sufficient prowess to gain the attention of a recruiter for the presidential security agency known as the Turks. I was hardly a political youth and barely knew the name of the president, however, at last I was assured of a regular and generous paycheck, and even more importantly, the opportunity to travel on assignment to exotic locations. Is it any surprise that I traded in my patched rags for the black suit and white shirt of the prestigious Turks? I thrived in this profession, my personality and experience fit for the work. Aloof arrogance was an act I pulled off easily while never failing to note the slightest detail that might compromise the security of a mission, and I rose steadily through the ranks. By the time I was 20 I was a lieutenant, I made commander by the age of 25. I earned these ranks not by playing the game of brown-nosing politics, but through simply being the best there was.

Two years after I made my final rank advancement to commander, I was given an assignment to guard an eminent scientist, Dr. Hojo, who was working on a top secret project for the government. The details of his work were not known to me and I honestly did not care. Following orders and keeping my record of service immaculate were my highest priorities. I reported to Shinra Mansion at the base of the Nibel Mountains prepared to do that task for which I was trained.

I had not met Dr. Hojo before this assignment. I knew of his reputation for disregarding moral questions for the sake of research, but I must admit this didn't bother me at the time. My first impression of him was that he needed to come out of the lab more often; he was gaunt and pale and highly unattractive. His assistant, Lucretia, however, was quite the opposite: beautiful, graceful, and given to genuine smiling that only seemed to heighten the chilling effect of Dr. Hojo's less-than-sane lipless leer. I, however, was there as a Turk, not as a psychologist, and I chose to take some small comfort in the fact that I would seldom be dealing with him.

I set to my assignment with the usual precision, giving duties to those Turks assigned under my command and maintaining the highest security. Within a week I had come to realize this was hardly necessary since nobody ever came near the place except the pilot who delivered the supplies and he always left as soon as possible. I resigned myself to several months of boredom. The closest town, Nibelheim, was one which was nearly the twin of the rustic village I had escaped, with the exception of being on an average day cold and miserable rather than balmy and sleep-inducing.

With little to do other than play cards and watch security monitors that never changed, my devotion to duty began to slip away and I started finding my thoughts drifting from my work to the only thing that could truly hold my interest, Dr. Hojo's pretty assistant. At first, it was only glances across the dining hall table, but eventually it occurred to me that more often than not, when I lifted my eyes to look at her, I would see them already fastened on me. Only once during this time did Dr. Hojo join us for dinner, but I recall him watching with a keen interest, his thin lips curling into that sinister smile of his. I chose to ignore this as the perverse pleasures of a creature who would never himself be able to garner the attention of a female.

I began to look for reasons to see her, to talk to her. It seems quite pubescent in retrospect, I must have seemed the overt fool to slip into the lab and inform her that there was nothing of note of which to inform her. She took this idiocy graciously, granting me one of those radiant smiles that would carry me through another hour of tedium without her. It was a full month before I worked up the nerve to ask her to go to dinner with me in one of the restaurants in Nibelheim. My wondrous wooing powers reasserted themselves in that I was so shocked she agreed that I asked her again. She repeated her acceptance of the invitation in spite of my bumbling and thus was born the happiest period of my life.

Lucretia and I spent more and more time together. I found she had a wonderful sense of humor as well as intelligence and beauty, and in her presence I began to open up and relax, shedding the image so carefully schooled into me as a Turk. We laughed and talked, accidental brushes of fingertips became hand-holding, late nights over coffee became walks in the moonlight, whispered secrets became soft kisses. Never in all this time did I dare to mention the word love, as if it were something that would break the delicate spell I was under and would shatter the dreams that were rising in my heart. I did not feel it needed to be said, however, for whenever I looked into her eyes I would see a reflection of my own feelings in their depths.

The only darkness which spoiled this brightest time was the increasing frequency of bizarre events within the mansion itself. The residence was separated from the laboratory by a dank spiral staircase of stonework that played tricks on one's mind by seeming to model itself after a cheap horror movie. More than once as I descended its steps I heard the strange and unnerving screams of Dr. Hojo's specimens echoing up from below. The specimens themselves were housed in antechambers to the laboratory library accessible only to Dr. Hojo himself, and I could only guess as to their species. Whatever they were, they were not human, although the plaintive shrieks often gave one the chilling thought that perhaps they may once have been so. I laughed then at the foolish tricks my mind played on me and convinced myself I had read too many of the mansion's Gothic horror novels for my own good.

Once, while speaking to Lucretia in the library, I caught a glimpse of a jar Dr. Hojo was transporting from the antechambers to the main lab. He peered at me over his glasses and from his quiet cackling I could only assume he delighted in my reaction of revulsion to the twisted tissues within the container. It appeared to be an internal organ of some sort, but even one with no training in science like myself could tell it was not of this world. I excused myself quickly and retreated, his mad laughter following me up the stairs.

Later I asked Lucretia more about her work. It was wrong of me to do so, I was not authorized for such information, but she haltingly revealed the general idea to me, perhaps in hopes of allaying my obviously growing reservations about Dr. Hojo and his work. They were studying the properties of an alien body that had been discovered frozen in a large crater north of the Great Glacier. She assured me it was not dangerous and held the potential to help all mankind. I inwardly chided myself for my superstitious reservations and assured her I would reveal what I knew to no one. It was the last we spoke of the subject for several weeks.

Eventually I could no longer bear the thought of losing Lucretia once this assignment was over. I knew her dedication to science and my career in the Turks would keep us apart, but so resolved was I in my quest for her love that I decided I would quit my profession in order to stay by her side. With this in mind, I purchased a ring and stood below her window, calling up to her to come walk with me as I had a hundred nights before that. As always, she smiled down and told me to meet her at the side entrance.

With a trembling hand I checked at least three times to make sure the small velvet box in my pocket had not vanished as I waited for her to appear. By the time she stepped out and closed the door behind her, I was so nervous I failed to note the reservation in her smile. I slipped my hand around hers and as usual we walked up toward the town, making the polite but affectionate conversation of telling each other how our days had gone. At the top of the hill where the moonlight shone like melted silver on the ground I chose my moment, turning to her and presenting the box.

"Lucretia," I whispered, my voice sounding hoarse with the overwhelming thought of the joy I anticipated seeing in her eyes, "I love you. I live for you. I cannot bear the thought of being without you. Marry me, my beloved."

My anticipation hung in the air as she stared at the ring, then shattered a moment later when pain, not joy, crossed her face. Bursting into tears, she turned and ran back to the mansion without saying a single word. I must have stood there in the middle of the road for minutes, unbelieving and dismayed. Could I have been so wrong about the light in her eyes when she smiled at me? Had I once again been the bumbling fool and hurt the only woman I cared about?


	2. The Waking Nightmare

Face And Ghost 

Face and Ghost  
by NightsDawne 

Chapter 2: The Waking Nightmare

* * *

I managed after some time to pull myself together enough to chase after Lucretia, concerned that I had so upset her and confused as to her reaction to my proposal. By the time I reached the mansion she was already in her room, her door shut and locked tight. I took the stairs two at a time and threw myself against the door, calling her name and apologizing for having made the foolish assumption that my love was reciprocated. I could hear her tears through the rich wood, but it was a few moments before she could answer me.

"I do love you, Vincent. But I can't marry you. Forgive me, my love. I'm pregnant."

The words hit me as hard as bricks. I had never touched her beyond kisses, so I knew instantly it could not be mine. Yet who else in this mansion had put her in this state? "Who?!" I found myself demanding, anger rising in me at the thought that such a thing could not have been of her will. Her answer chilled me to the bone and sent me sliding to my knees, though it came in a trembling whisper I could barely make out through the barrier that separated us.

"Dr. Hojo." I felt the bile rising in my throat, but she continued, anticipating my conclusions. "He didn't rape me, Vincent, not in so many words. He needed a child for the experiments and offered me the security of marriage in return. I had no idea that you would ask, or that you even loved me. I have no choice now. Please understand."

"No choice?" I pressed my wet cheek to the door, my heart breaking within me. "Lucretia, all I desire is your happiness. But tell me you will be happy and I won't interfere. Tell me otherwise and I will give you your choice."

She didn't answer me, no matter how I implored. Not even her sobs gave me reply anymore, there was only silence from within. I pushed myself away from the door and got to my feet, then ran with all my anguish spurring me on to the laboratory library, abandoned for the evening. In frantic solitude I grabbed books of notes and began to read, pouring over the tormenting tale of Hojo's so-called experiments in search of answers. As I read I began to realize that not only was Lucretia but one of his guinea pigs, but that the madman was conducting the most awful research that could be imagined. He was planning to hybridize the alien corpse with a human being. What monstrous creature this would produce I could only imagine, but I could not stand by and allow my Lucretia to be used in such an unnatural creation.

With singular resolve I stood and made my way to the locked door that separated the library from the antechamber where surely the hideous alien being named Jenova was being kept in one of Hojo's vats. Too impatient to search for the chance of a key, I pulled my revolver and fired into the lock four times, then kicked it open. My hasty act had ruptured some container of liquid that had been on the other side, creating a slippery hazard. I could not stop for caution, my mind was singularly set upon destroying Jenova. Without even noticing the spill I rushed in, sliding to the floor so roughly that my revolver was knocked from my hand.

I cared not about the revolver, but pulled myself to my feet and stumbled forward to the vat that contained the headless and limbless alien body. Even in this state the sight of it caused me to retch, floating like a nightmare vision in bubbling liquid. My hand fumbled for the nearest switch, but pressing it did nothing that I could see. With a cry of anger I began to tear at the instruments, focusing only on returning this thing to a death state. I never noticed what my Turk instincts would have warned me of had I been in my right mind.

"What do you think you're doing, Vincent?" Hojo's question came in his usual mocking tone, his chortling breaking through my rage and causing me to turn to face him. In his hand was my revolver. "You're not supposed to be down here making messes in my laboratory. You'll upset my precious specimens."

His insane laughter rekindled my anger. "You're a madman, Hojo! I'll stop you. You cannot do this to Lucretia or to humanity!"

"Oh, you'll stop me?" Hojo's laughter only became louder. "You imbecile, I'm the one with the lab coat, not to mention the gun. And you're the disturbed young man attacking my projects."

The cold realization of my situation began to hit me, but I was still determined to finish what I had started. With righteous defiance I reached up to the last switch, slamming it down with my hand. The crackle of sparks from the vat and the sound of the gun firing came simultaneously. I felt no pain, simply a sudden pressure and then a spreading numbness. I looked down to see blood flowing across the white of my shirt, the whole scene becoming surreal. So this is what death is like, I thought as I slid down to the floor. I felt a kick as Hojo rushed to undo what I had done, but I was beyond pain now. The room grew dark around me and I knew no more.

When I awoke I was disoriented. From the appearance of the ceiling above me I surmised myself to be in one of the basement antechambers and laying on my back. I could tell the room was deathly cold, but despite being naked I felt no discomfort at it. My chest ached as if it had been ripped open. My left arm was a searing focus of pain. I became aware of cold steel around my ankles, right wrist, waist, and neck. With some effort I lifted my head slightly in an attempt to find out more.

As I looked down I saw a row of sutures binding together a deep incision on my chest, but the pale grey pallor of my skin was what shocked me more. It was not the color of a living thing. I tilted my head to examine my left arm, but all I saw was a bandaged stump. I heard my scream blending into the tormented wails of Hojo's specimens, but unlike theirs, mine still sounded fully human.

"Ah, you're awake. Amazing! A fully revived corpse." Hojo's maniacal cackling filled my ears and I turned my head to see him standing at the side of the table I was bound to.

"What have you done to me?" I growled. His smirk only grew.

"I never waste an opportunity to further my research, my precious specimen. Why bury a perfectly good body? No, a genius finds something to do with it. A few Jenova cells and look! You're fully functional. Death will become a thing of the past." Hojo cackled again.

"You're insane. You can't destroy humanity by melding it to that creature's cells!"

Hojo raised a brow. "I'm destroying nothing. I only study and improve."

I dropped my head back against the table weakly. "What happened to my arm?"

"One of my greater sparks of creativity, I must admit." Hojo's oily smile was mocking and revolting as it came closer to me. "It wouldn't do to have Lucretia nosing about looking for you, now would it? But now she's too busy grieving your suicide." I stared at him in horror, a reaction that only seemed to please him more. "With a chewed arm as evidence she was quite able to accept that you were such a disturbed young man you would throw yourself into a specimen tank to be torn to pieces."

My rage that he would so treat the woman I loved was beyond that for the mutilation perpetrated against myself, and I senselessly struggled under my restraints, screaming my intent to destroy him. Neither had much effect other than causing him to chortle in amusement. "That would be fairly useless, Vincent, considering I am your maker and the one most knowledgeable about the cells within you," he said, reaching behind him for something I could not see. A moment later I felt a needle enter my arm and numbness and drowsiness began to overtake me. "Now enough explanations. I am not through working yet." Blackness surrounded me as the drug forced me into darkness once more.

"Your name is Vincent."

I started. I was asleep, drugged, yet this was no dream. I stood in a field of pure darkness, perfectly conscious that I was within the confines of my own mind, yet I was not alone. I turned toward the inhuman voice and saw before me a pair of glowing red eyes. "You have the advantage on me. Who are you?"

An outline began to take shape around the eyes, but did not solidify, remaining ethereal. I saw a huge creature, muscles rippling under indigo skin, ruby horns curling back from its temples. "The Galian Beast. Superstitious mortals would call me a demon, but they would be only marginally correct." The Beast stepped forward, studying me as I did it, both of us silent and wary, but he showed no hostility toward me.

"Then I am possessed or going mad. Neither of these states pleases me." I backed away a few paces, but didn't take my eyes from the Beast.

"Possessed? Not exactly. Mad? Hardly. You are a conduit, trapped between death and life. You are shared." The Beast turned, looking at his surroundings, although what he saw beyond the endless darkness I do not know. For the first time I realized that he was as trapped within me as I was bound in the physical by Hojo's restraints. I also became aware that he was not the only one of his kind there, although his form was the only one I could actually visualize. "We are bound to you. Have no fear, we cannot destroy you lest we also destroy ourselves."

"How comforting," I replied in sarcasm, straining to put shape to the three other presences I sensed, but they remained silent and unseen.

The Beast looked back to me and regarded me for some minutes without speaking. When at last his voice again broke the silence, it rang with an air of confidence and command. "We will help each other. You will give us what we need to grow strong, and we will protect you."

Insane or possessed, I was not willing to accept the idea of being ordered about by something in my own mind, and so I straightened myself, determined to remain in charge. "I will consider your offer, Beast, but bound to me or not, this is my body, my mind, my soul." I took a chance on the guess that without my help he and the others were little more than guests in a black prison of despair. "If you want my help, you will obey my commands, not demand of me."

The Beast growled softly, his eyes glowing, but after some time nodded his acquiescence, confirming my supposition. I showed no evidence of fear, using the training instilled in me during my years as a Turk to match his powerful confidence. "You said demon was not a complete description of what you are," I said, circling around him. "Tell me more."

The Beast stood his ground, his only movement the flicking of his hairless serpentine tail. "I am an elemental, born of fire, not hell."

I completed my circuit of study and faced him as if reviewing one of the men in my command. "You are then a powerful monster. Perhaps your protection would be valuable. What is it that will strengthen you?"

"Blood." The Beast gazed down at me, watching for any sign of revulsion on my part. I gave him no such satisfaction. I was not unused to death, although the thought of innocents being murdered kindled outrage within me.

"I will not murder for you. But I am not unwilling to kill those that deserve it."

The Beast nodded slowly. "That is acceptable."

I turned away from the Beast, unafraid of him, but seeking peace and solitude. He spake no more, but the presences continued to be felt even in silence.


End file.
